Snake

We found a young grass snake writhing up Bridge Steet today. It was hardly bigger than a pencil, but beautiful rich green with a yellow collar. I put it on the river bank among long grass, and hopefully its terror subsided. It must have hatched from an egg that was laid very much earlier in the year than grass snakes were supposed to lay before we humans noticed global warming.

Puffin

Found an old print with no negative, dragged out the ancient scanner which weighs nearly as much as a fridge (remember those connectors with dozens of little prongs that we had before USB and Firewire?) and an even older laptop with the software in it. Not a bad result though!

The chair (awaking)

She woke in her chair and rang; "Why am I so tired?" "Do you sleep at night?" "Yes, except when the man comes to ask if I'm alright."

The chair (the yield)

So the chair, from behind and under its cushions, yielded about sixty knives forks and spoons, 2 toothbrushes, 1 tea bag (loose), 1 box of tea bags, 1 jar of coffee, 1 slab of chocolate, one box of chocolates, 8 pens, 1 cheque book, 3 socks, 3 tea towels, 2 pairs trousers, 3 shirts, 2 fitted bedsheets (folded) and 1 place mat.
It's occupant, who had for lack of space moved to another chair, was able to move back into residence, the elderly gentleman was able to have a cup of coffee at last, and it became possible to eat the salmon and asparagus that I'd cooked for lunch and to pay the gardener who comes once a week.

In the garden a spinach plant that had long gone to seed blew over, and the gardener put it for compost and dug over the plot. The elderly lady made so many calls demanding the 'stolen' spinach back, that the gardeners family and her own eventually had to unplug their phones for the evening. Without memory, sense sadly goes too.

Loire or chair?

The trip to France was too good to be true, so it's off to Budleigh Salterton to retrieve tea bags and tins of fruit from behind the cushions of 'the chair'; then there will be room for it's occupant to sit and doze without sliding to the floor.

Loire

"Have you contacted the writer about the assignment in the Loire Valley?" the e-mail said. "No, please tell me her phone number, please, please. Je le ferai volontiers." Twelve minutes have passed and still no reply. What's the assignment? Will I overnight in a beautiful Chateau and sample their wines. Will I fly; will I TGV? Cyberspace is a desolate and empty void for me this late in the evening (translation - they've left the office). In the morning will it all turn out to be true?

Toad

A toad was waiting to be let out through the french doors this morning. Don't ask! I don't know.